


Complimentary Breakfast

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, One Night Stands, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Smut, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25808353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: There is nothing better than a wedding to bring couples together, especially when that couple is you and Steve, the maid of honor and the best man. You just have to get through the weekend and a reservation mix-up that forces you to share a room with the best man and your former one-night stand.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 159





	Complimentary Breakfast

You saw him as soon as you stepped into the main building of the resort. You ducked behind a giant ficus and dragged in a deep breath. Of course, he was here, in the lobby. It wasn’t like you hadn’t known he’d be here, you’d just hoped you wouldn’t see him the second you walked through the door. Seeing him so soon took you by surprise, which was why you were hiding behind a potted plant in the posh lobby of the expensive resort. You needed to get it together. After all, he was just one man. 

Steve Rogers. The bane of your existence.

You and Steve had a tumultuous relationship. He was Sam's best friend and since you were Leila's, it was inevitable that the two of you would run into each other. Frequently run into each other. There had been an almost immediate, mutual attraction, an undeniable attraction. That attraction had eventually led to a one-night stand, an insane, intense, unbelievable one-night stand that had rocked your world and basically ruined all other men for you. There was no way anyone else would ever compare to Steve Rogers. But, he hadn’t seemed interested in anything more, like a relationship, and you weren’t interested in being his fuck buddy, so you’d done your best to avoid him from that point on. That had been six months ago.

But now, his best friend and yours were getting married and of course, you and Steve were in the wedding party as the maid of honor and best man, respectively. You thought you’d prepared yourself for seeing him, but apparently, you were wrong.

“Stop being a baby,” you silently chastised yourself. “Just walk over there, say hello, get your room key, and walk away. Easy peasy.”

You grabbed the handle of your suitcase, straightened your shoulders, and made your way across the lobby, easing to a stop just behind Steve.

“You must be mistaken,” Steve was saying. “I’m not married. I’m supposed to be in a suite, by myself.”

The young man behind the counter shifted awkwardly and glanced at you before turning back to Steve. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers,” he mumbled, pointing at the computer screen, “but according to this, you are in a deluxe suite with your wife, Y/N -”

“What?” you snapped.

Steve swung around at the sound of your voice. He tried to smile, but it was forced and pained. “Y/N, thank God. Maybe you can talk some sense into them.”

Before you could say anything, the young man turned and scurried away, disappearing through a door behind the counter. A few minutes later he returned, followed by a stern looking older gentleman he introduced as the manager, Mr. Pearson.

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked, peering at you over the top of his glasses. 

“It seems that you’ve put us in a suite together,” you explained, gesturing to Steve. “Apparently under the mistaken assumption that we’re married. We’d like separate rooms, please, as that is most definitely not the case.”

Mr. Pearson sighed heavily and tapped several keys on the keyboard. He squinted at the screen for what seemed like forever before speaking.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. We do not have any extra rooms.”

“But-“

He held up his hand, cutting you off. “I’m sorry, miss, but there is nothing I can do. Either you share the suite or I’ll have to cancel your reservation.”

You turned to Steve. “I don’t think we have much choice,” you murmured. Leila would kill you if you weren’t in the same hotel as her; literally kill you.

Steve sighed heavily, but he nodded. Five minutes later you had two room keys and a voucher for a complimentary breakfast in order “make up for our mistake” according to the manager. You were just about to head for the elevators but Steve stopped you with a hand on your arm. He turned back to the manager.

“Excuse me, Mr. Pearson, but could you tell me how many beds are in the suite?”

“Of course, Mr. Rogers,” Pearson nodded. ”There is one king-size bed.”

* * *

You needed a drink. And the second the rehearsal was over, you were heading straight for the bar.

You were a bundle of nerves. After leaving the lobby and taking a very quiet trip up the elevator to your room, Steve had dropped his bag on the floor just inside the door, mumbled something like “see you later” and vanished.

You’d stayed in the room as long as possible, until Leila started blowing your phone up, demanding you join them in the bar. You’d taken your time, touching up your make-up and changing your clothes, before you headed downstairs to meet the rest of the wedding party.

Steve grabbed you as soon as you stepped into the room, tugging you into the corner, behind a ficus. You had a feeling your memories of this trip would include a lot of hiding behind ficus trees.

“I did not tell Sam and Leila about the room mix-up,” he said. “I don’t want anything to ruin their weekend. Let’s just keep it between us, okay?”

“Agreed,” you nodded. “Leila has enough on her plate, she doesn’t need that, too.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he said. He squeezed your upper arm gently and flashed you a sexy smile, his blue eyes twinkling. “Talk to you later, roomie.”

Why the hell did he have to be so damn attractive?

You waited a couple of minutes before following Steve and joining him, along with the rest of the wedding party. Leila pounced on you the second she laid eyes on you, throwing her arms around you and hugging you tight.

“Finally,” she mumbled. “Are you okay?” She held you at arm’s length and eyed you up and down.

You smiled at your best friend. “Of course I am,” you lied. “Don’t worry about me.” 

“Great,” Leila grinned. “Thank God. We need to get this rehearsal underway.”

The next couple of hours were a whirlwind of activity; rehearsing for the ceremony, dinner, speeches, more speeches, and lots of drinks. You managed to keep one eye on Steve for most of the night, but he seemed content to ignore you. Around ten, Leila dragged you upstairs to her room and put you to work making sure everything was ready for the next day; she had lists and instructions, and she was one hundred percent determined to make sure everything went perfectly. You were more than happy to help. It was after midnight by the time you got back to your room and Steve was nowhere to be seen. You uttered a silent thank you, quickly changed into a pair of pajamas, climbed into the bed, and promptly fell asleep.

Your phone vibrated at seven a.m., your signal to start the day. Despite feeling utterly exhausted, you managed to crawl out of bed and make your way to the bathroom. It wasn’t until you’d washed your face and brushed your teeth that you remembered you had a roommate. You opened the bathroom door a crack and peered out.

Steve was asleep on the couch, at least you thought he was asleep. He was on his stomach, one arm and one leg hanging off the side, one of the small decorative pillows shoved under his head, the comforter from the end of the bed wrapped around him. He did not look comfortable. 

Guilt had you ducking back into the bathroom before he woke up and looked at your well-rested face. You’d slept great in the huge king-size bed; it had never occurred to you that Steve would sleep on a couch that was far too small for him. In fact, you hadn’t really considered what Steve would do, you’d just hopped in the bed like it was your right to it. That thought made you feel like shit. You needed to get out of the room before he woke up and your guilt increased exponentially.

You locked the bathroom door, took a quick shower, and got dressed. On your way out the door, you snagged the complimentary breakfast voucher off the table and slipped out the door. You weren’t quite ready to face him, not yet, maybe not ever. At least you’d get a decent breakfast out of it.

You glanced at your watch. Just a little over twenty-four hours and you would be on your way home. Maybe you wouldn’t have to see Steve until Sam and Leila’s one-year anniversary.

* * *

You swiped at the tears streaming down your face. You didn’t know why you were crying; it wasn’t like you’d gotten married. You squeezed Leila tight until she mumbled in your ear that you were suffocating her and she really had to go. You laughed and released her, kissed Sam on the cheek, and stepped back to watch the happy couple as they climbed into a waiting limo to head to the airport. Once they were out of sight, you turned to head back inside, your heel twisting on a crack in the sidewalk. You felt yourself heading for the ground but a sure pair of hands grabbed you and steadied you, keeping you upright.

“You okay?” Steve asked.

“I have had too much to drink,” you sighed. “I’m all emotional and it’s late. I should probably go to bed.”

“Do you want me to walk you to our room?”

“No,” you scoffed. “In fact, I was going to try to get a room for myself. Maybe there’s a vacancy?”

“Don’t be silly,” Steve said. “It’s almost two in the morning. You don’t want to move rooms now, not in the middle of the night. I’ll take you upstairs and you can go to sleep. I slept on the couch last night and I can do it again.” He held his hand out to you. “Come on.”

You hesitated for just a second, then you took his hand and let him lead you to the elevators. Maybe you were wrong about Steve. Maybe he was interested in you and you had been the one running away from him. After all, you had done your best to avoid him since that fateful night six months ago. Once the doors slid closed, you spun around and threw your arms around Steve’s neck, your lips seeking his. But Steve stepped away from you, his hand on your waist, pushing you off of him.

“Look, sweetheart -”

You held your hand up and shook your head. Of course, you’d misread the situation. Steve was just being a gentleman, no surprise there; if you could count on Steve for anything, it was being the good guy. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t have done that. I told you, I’m emotional and half-drunk. Forget it happened.” You fidgeted nervously, shifting from foot to foot, staring at the numbers flashing by on the elevator wall, resolutely not looking Steve’s direction. You burst out the doors once the elevator came to a stop, Steve hot on your heels, calling your name.

You slid to a stop in front of the hotel room door, yanked the door card free of your small clutch, and shoved it into the slot. The light flashed red. You did it again and again, only to get the same response.

Steve’s hand closed over yours and his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “This isn’t our room, doll,” he breathed. “Give me the keycard.”

You let him take it from your hand and guide you down the hall. You’d been three doors down from your actual room. You felt like an idiot.

Steve opened the door and pushed you inside. You tossed your clutch on the table and sank to the couch, your head in your hands.

“What was that?” Steve asked.

“I misread the situation,” you shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“What is with you this weekend? You’re not acting like yourself.”

“I’m fine,” you snapped. “It’s just been crazy, okay? I said I was sorry that I tried to kiss you.”

“I’m not upset that you tried to kiss me,” he said. “It took me by surprise, that’s all. I mean, hell, you’ve been ignoring me since we got here. Scratch that, you’ve been ignoring me since we had sex six months ago.”

“With good reason,” you mumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You pushed yourself to your feet, teetering dangerously on your high heels thanks to the alcohol pulsing through your veins. You yanked off your shoes and tossed them aside before crossing the room and grabbing a bottle of water off the counter. You spun the lid off and quickly drank half of it. You turned back to Steve.

“I’ve been avoiding you intentionally,” you said. “I got the distinct impression from you that you weren’t interested in anything more from me and I wasn’t interested in being your fuck buddy -”

“Fuck buddy?” Steve snorted. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” you nodded. “Look, I’m gonna change and go to sleep. I know that couch isn’t comfortable for you, so I’ll sleep on it. You can have the bed.”

“Why don’t we just both sleep in the bed?” Steve said. “It’s late and we’re both tired. It’s a big bed. I think we can sleep on opposite sides and behave ourselves, don’t you?”

“If you say so,” you muttered. You snatched your tank top and shorts off the top of your suitcase and went into the bathroom, slamming the door just a little too hard. When you emerged, Steve was in the bed, lying on his back, eyes closed.

You crossed the room and slid beneath the cool sheets. You turned off the bedside lamp and laid back, staring straight ahead, trying not to move, or even breathe. All you could think about was Steve just inches away from you, how the heat from his body seemed to seep into you and the smell of his cologne assaulted you. When he rolled to his side, facing you, you squeezed your eyes closed and tried to pretend you were asleep.

“I know you’re awake,” he chuckled. “You’re stiff as a board.” He reached over and took your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours. “Can we talk?”

You turned toward him, squinting to make out his face in the dark. “What are we going to talk about?”

“Us.”

“There is no ‘us’, Steve,” you murmured. “There’s you and there’s me and that’s it.”

“What if there was an us?”

Your heart leapt at his words. “Wh-what?”

“I’m asking you if there could be an us,” he said. “What if I want there to be an us? I never got the chance to tell you if I wanted more or not. You just assumed I didn’t.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but instead, you took a second to replay the last six months in your head, trying to remember when or even if Steve had ever given you the impression that he wasn’t interested in a relationship.

“You never...you never said -”

“I never said I wasn’t interested in a relationship. I don’t know where you got that idea, but it’s not true. In fact, I thought maybe we  _ could _ have a relationship, I hoped maybe we could, but you avoided me like I was some kind of dastardly villain or something. I decided you weren’t interested in being with me.”

You were silent for a minute, your emotions twisting and turning, your head spinning. “God, are we stupid or what?”

“Stupid,” Steve laughed. The bed shifted, Steve moving closer, then his lips crashed into yours, his hands on you, pushing the sheets away from your body and pulling you into his arms. 

“Jesus, doll,” he growled. “All this time, wasted…” His tongue traced your lips, pushing into your mouth, exploring you, tasting you, limbs tangled together, bodies pressed together. 

When you broke apart, both of you were gasping for air. Your body was on fire from Steve’s touch, a coil of want and need twisting in your gut, Steve’s arousal evident against your upper thigh. He rested his forehead against yours, his hands on your hips, holding you tight against him.

“How drunk are you?” you whispered.

“I’m not drunk at all,” he replied. “I had one beer and a glass of champagne. That was it. What about you? Are you too drunk to know what you want?”

“I want you. Do you want me?”

“It’s all I’ve wanted since we first met,” he whispered. His fingers tangled in your hair, dragging you closer, his mouth slanting over yours.

You relaxed into his arms with a sigh. The kiss deepened, your breath mingling with his, the taste of him filling your mouth. Your hands roamed over his torso, your nervousness and doubt gone. You wanted nothing more than what you’d always craved - Steve.

Except he seemed determined to take things slow. He kissed your neck, running his tongue up and down your throat, occasionally nipping at your collarbone or the soft skin behind your ears. His hands were everywhere, your waist, your back, your hips, caressing your face, or the inside of your arm. You moaned softly when his hand slid up your naked thigh to your heated center. You caressed his chest and stomach, tracing the defined muscles, your fingers slipping under the edge of the waistband of his boxer briefs, a sigh escaping him as you touched him.

Steve hovered over you, dropping his head to take your breast in his mouth, his tongue laving the nipple before tugging gently with his teeth. You groaned, your back arching, pushing yourself into his mouth. His hand slid around your back, holding you suckled each of your breasts, paying equal attention to them both. He kissed your breasts, down your stomach, and across your hips, then back up again. He was barely touching you, his lips just ghosting over your skin, but by the time he reached your neck, you were writhing with need. His hand slid down your stomach and between your legs, his fingers slipping between the folds and immediately finding your clit. He slowly caressed it, circling it, the slight pressure driving you crazy with desire.

You took Steve’s heavy cock in your hand, slowly stroking him, trying to give him back some of the pleasure he was giving to you. His hips moved, thrusting into your hand, low moans coming from the back of his throat as he continued kissing you. Two fingers slowly entered you, massaging your inner walls, easing you open as he continued rubbing your clit with his thumb.

You were losing your ability to concentrate, to think clearly, because of the things Steve was doing to you. He was incredibly attentive, in tune with your body, and what you wanted. Every sense was heightened, every touch was inflaming your need for him until you felt like your body was screaming with desire. 

“Condom?” you gasped, squirming beneath him.

“Shit, hold on,” he grumbled, pushing himself off of you and out of the bed, stumbling around in the dark room. His phone came on and in the dim light you could see him digging around in his suitcase, then the light went out and he was back on the bed, kneeling between your legs.

You plucked the condom from between his fingers, tore it open, and eased it down Steve’s shaft, stroking him several times once it was in place. You wrapped your legs around his waist and guided him into you. He slid into you with a satisfied sigh, thrusting deep. You moaned his name and rocked your hips up to meet him, clutching at him, your nails digging into the skin, pulling him into you, wanting to feel every inch of him.

Steve growled low in the back of his throat as he began to move, thrusting hard and deep. He set an easy pace, taking his time to explore every inch of you, feel every inch of you, his hands all over your body, his cock buried deep inside of you, his mouth on yours, kissing you.

You were gone, flying, rocketing toward your orgasm, every thrust from Steve pushing you closer to the edge. He moved faster, slamming into you, pounding you into the mattress, your hips snapping up to meet his and then you were gone, consumed by the sensations engulfing you as you fell apart, your body on fire as you came with a muffled cry of Steve’s name, your face buried against his chest.

Steve caught your lips in a fierce kiss, devouring you, his movements erratic and intense, his cock pulsing as he came, a low moan rumbling through him. He continued kissing you even as he rolled off you and to his back, pulling you with him, one arm still around you. You snuggled close to him, your hand resting on his chest, his fingers drifting up and down your arm.

“Remind me to thank the hotel manager on our way out tomorrow,” he murmured.

“Um, okay?” you laughed. “What for?”

“For messing up our reservation,” he replied. “If he hadn’t, we never would have gotten our act together.”

“Maybe we should get him a complimentary breakfast,” you mumbled.

Steve snorted and hugged you closer. “You’re hysterical, doll,” he chuckled. He pressed a kiss to your forehead then he tucked his hand beneath your chin, tipping your head back so he could kiss you, a deep, probing kiss. “Get some sleep.”


End file.
